#nat vibes

[letsgethaunted]

Be honest, you already knew i was gonna do this.

[enthyrea]

dagger version of this post!! olympic au!!🥇

tried to match their characters/body types to appropriate sports <33

rooster as a fencer, hangman as an equestrian, coyote and hondo as track&field (sprinter and shot put), phoenix and bob as shooters, fanboy as a skateboarder, and payback as a judoka!

[moonlightmagical]

i too would like to only be known as the guy who yelled “POLICE STATE!” in the face of school wide surveillance

[burninblood]

hey hey hey have you heard this powercouple is back together in the comics?

[night-the-starfish]

Heron in flight, pencil and newspaper cutout

[me-sploh-rada-imas]

[mamaspidershit]

Peter: Why can’t you just say phrases correctly?! Natasha: Well, aren’t you just a ray of sunscreen.

[letsgethaunted]

POSSUMS STAND UP

[g3othermal3scapism]

hc after they start dating syd mentions she wants a dog and carmy tells her its a waste of money but after she gets one he comes over to play with it so much that it basically becomes their shared dog

[nateezfics]

if i could ever get myself to really lock in and actually write all the fic ideas/requests i have, i’d be unstoppable.

[rayandgay]

two worlds - official teaser

[heartz4shauna]

thunder only happens

when it’s raining.

players only love you

when they’re playing.

[inthissilence-ibeliev3]

Life lately

[quiveringdeer]

THESE ARE SO CURSED!!!!

why he smilin like that!!!

why his forehead so bare!!!!!

[otrtbs]

if y'all wanna read something so unserious rn i have 1.3k words of bartylus under the cut with nowhere else to put them so

“Tell me how you did it.”

“What?” Barty looked up from his desk in the back of the classroom, momentarily stopping himself from carving his initials into the wood. 

When he finally looked up, he was met with an annoyed-looking Regulus Black. His dark eyebrows were pulled together as he frowned down at Barty’s carving. Barty has spent his entire life convinced that Regulus was a vampire. Pale skin (even in the brutal summer), strikingly dark green eyes, and raven-colored hair. He always spoke in a calm and measured cadence, dressed like he was from a different time, looked perpetually cold, and ignored everyone besides his brother Sirius- who was in the year above them and was also most likely a vampire. Barty swore that even Regulus’ canines were sharper than the average person’s were. 

Regulus slammed a white sheet of paper down on the desk and Barty couldn’t help the slight smirk pulling at his lips as he looked down at it. 

A cumulative summary for every class that Regulus Black has taken with every grade recorded in neat, black, ink. At the very bottom, circled in red pen, and where Regulus was pointing to with his bony-ass finger, read:

Rank: 2

Barty knew what he was implying but he enjoyed seeing Regulus so wound up. “Your middle name is Arcturus? What kind of name–” 

“How did you do it?” Regulus repeated, interrupting Barty as his frown deepened. “It has to be you, right? I saw your last test and you made a perfect score, so. What did you do? Did you steal an answer key for every quiz and test? Blackmail? Bribery?” 

Barty blinked at his bluntness before he recovered. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I’m just really fucking smart? Maybe that’s how I got to the top of the class. You know, with my brain.” 

“You never take notes, you spend half of the class time carving penises into the desks with your pen and then the other half of the time asleep, I’ve never seen you open a book to study. I call bullshit. I spend all of my time studying and reviewing and–” 

“Like a loser,” Barty coughed under his breath. 

“And you sit in the back like some burnout. High and above it all,” Regulus finished with a glare. 

“Maybe if you lived a little like me instead of shutting yourself up in a Millionaire Mile Mansion, you’d score higher on your tests,” Barty smirked, returning to his carving. 

“You also live in a Millionaire Mile Mansion,” Regulus deadpanned. “And your definition of fun is setting fire to abandoned buildings so forgive me if I don’t–” 

“That wasn’t me. You can’t prove that,” Barty cut in quickly. It was an accident. There had been a burn ban in the summer that Barty had taken a little too lightly and before he could stop it, the entire abandoned pharmacy had gone up in flames along with the field surrounding it. It was still an unsolved arson as far as Sheriff Lupin was concerned, and it was going to stay that way. 

“Relax, I’m not going to tell anyone,” Regulus softened after a moment. “Just, tell me what you did. Do you have flashcards or something?” 

“Flashcards?” Barty snorted. 

“Fuck you,” Regulus shot back before he turned to leave. The classroom was empty apart from the two of them and when he made it to the door, he looked back at Barty once more. “What you’re not coming? School is over.” 

Barty shrugged. “I have detention.”

“For what?” 

“My wonderful art skills,” Barty grinned gesturing to the desk littered with his handiwork. “And hey, Regulus?” 

Regulus stopped once more, one foot already out of the room and a scowl back on his face. 

“Good talk,” Barty finished. 

Regulus left without another word. 

The next day, Barty slipped into the back of class just before the bell and he counted down the seconds until the day was over. Mainly, he watched Regulus because he wanted to talk to him. Ever since their previous conversation the day before, Barty thought about speaking to him again. It was nice, when Regulus was talking he couldn’t scowl, and his features softened just enough that made his uncanny beauty more human. Besides, Barty enjoyed eliciting some emotion out of a boy who seemed so unreachable. 

“I hope you’re ready for my Valedictorian speech in May,” Barty taunted as Regulus gathered his things to leave at the end of the day. 

“It’ll be shit. You couldn’t give a motivational speech to save your life,” Regulus muttered under his breath. 

Barty slammed a hand dramatically against his heart. “You wound me. I was planning on telling everyone to go fuck themselves but we’ll see what I feel like on the day. Either way, you’ll be watching me from the second-place spot.”

Regulus attempted to push past him but Barty began walking alongside him, keeping in step. 

“What, no detention today?” Regulus scoffed. 

Barty shook his head as they pushed through the crowds of students gathering in hallways and chattering about their days.

“Why don’t you walk home with Sirius?” 

“Why are you still talking to me?” 

“Rude.” 

Regulus pushed through the heavy metal doors out into the sunlight. It was still too hot to be comfortable. Unbearably stifling heat that wouldn’t leave until late October. Barty followed closely behind Regulus. 

“What are you doing?” Regulus continued, shoes slapping against the pavement. 

Barty shrugged. “Making a friend or something.” 

“Well, I don’t want to be your friend,” Regulus shot back quickly. 

“Oh come on,” Barty sighed. “Us Millionaire Mile kids have to stick together or the proletariat children of the town will rise up and kill us or something.” 

“Shut up,” Regulus scoffed, and then after a moment he added, “I’m surprised you even know the word proletariat.” 

“If we’re going to be friends then you’ll have to stop insulting me so often,” Barty returned, struggling to keep up with Regulus’ quick walking pace.   

“We’re not friends. I spoke to you once and instantly regretted it.” 

“See another insult. You’ll have to get better about that.” 

They continued their walk home, past the center of town with the single grocery store, past the church and the creek and the railroad, and past the burned lot of land- that Barty had absolutely nothing to do with- until they reached Clairmont Street, more commonly known as Millionaire Mile. 

Clairemont Street contained all of the houses with wrap-around porches and antique glass windows that scattered sunlight in stained-glass brilliance on the hardwood floors. Houses with porch swings and neat trimmings and large yards with gardens that bloomed no matter how dead and withered everything else was. Houses straight out of a Southern Gothic novel. The Millionaire Mile Houses were houses for judges and politicians and their sons, for families who founded the town- or, like in Regulus’ case, houses for oil heirs staying out here because that’s where the oil was. 

As they walked, Barty managed to wear Regulus down with his quick remarks and little jabs. He could tell that Regulus didn’t mind his presence as much as they walked under trees and shop awnings– anything to keep them in the shade and out of the direct sunlight. 

“Look,” Barty began as they were about to part ways. Regulus lived in the middle of Millionaire Mile, right where Walburga liked to be. She could see everything and know everything that happened on her street. Nothing escaped her scrutiny. But Barty and his father lived in the very last house on the street. Shoved into the corner and tucked away out of sight. “I know it kills you that the burn-out kid in the back of the class is smarter than you, but I’d be happy to tutor you some time. Since I'm so much better than you without even trying.”

Barty couldn't help the smile he gave at Regulus' look of indignation.  

Regulus shook his head as he bounded up the steps to his house. “If we’re going to be friends, Barty, you’ll have to stop insulting me so often.”